


Charity

by Lilsi



Category: The Bill
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsi/pseuds/Lilsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gina's mum wants to try something new. Gina isn't sure this is a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charity

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was once posted at Craiggilmore.co.uk a fan site no longer active, so to preserve this story and others, I am importing them to AO3. I did not want the loss of such a large amount of amazing and wonderful fanfiction, it would be such a waste to fans of Craig Gilmore and Luke Ashton to not have the opportunity to enjoy these stories as i have. Since the site is no longer active i have been unable to contact the creators but if you happen to be them under a new pen name and want the fiction to be removed please send me a note!
> 
> Story written by - Alex
> 
> Part of the CraigGilmore's Mother's Day Marathon challenge.

Mother, you can't possibly be serious!” 

 

“Why can't I, hmm?” The bright eyes glitter furiously as her beautifully manicured fingers stretch out to retrieve the glossy brochure from the top of a stack of reports on the desk in front of her daughter.

 

“You're 75 years old!”

 

“I'm perfectly aware of that madam, thank you; and I've never been ill day in my life.”

 

“But...”

 

“But nothing!” 

 

The brochure slides into the ridiculously small patent leather clutch bag laying on the older woman's lap. Her daughter watches incredulously; her mother must have developed some special magic over the years. There's no way she could fit the amount of stuff she carries in there otherwise. The packet of extra strong mints alone (she knows her mother never goes anywhere without one) should cause it to warp.

 

“I've made my decision.” The tiny gold clasp snaps shut. “Close your mouth dear, the flies will get in.” 

 

“But...”

 

“The nice young man at the jump centre...” The older woman's eyes twinkle--he'd been 40 if he was a day, still trim and athletic looking with swept back fair hair and such nice blue eyes-- “...said it was perfectly fine as long as I could provide note from the doctor...”

 

“Jumping out of an aeroplane, though...”

 

“My darling child, it's not like I'll be doing it on my own. It's a tandem jump. That means,” she smiles delightedly, “that I'll be strapped to the front of some dashing young man as I float through the air.”

 

“You hope. He could be a 'she' you know. ”

 

Her mother's managing to make it almost sound appealing. Maybe she'll try it herself one day if...

 

“Well it's certainly a good deal more exciting than baking cakes...” the woman stretches her hand across to pat her daughter's hand. “When you were younger and your father got sick, do you remember all those infernal coffee mornings - baking biscuits and fairy cakes that all turned out crooked?”

 

“People ate them, though. And then you discovered Tupperware -” 

 

The mother flinches. “And then the eighties happened and you discovered Ann Summers and raising money for the Imperial Cancer Research Fund got a lot more exciting...”

 

“You always were game for anything.” smiles Gina indulgently.

 

“So you'll come then?” 

 

“Yes. I'll come and watch you throw yourself out plane dearest mother, even though probably what I really should be doing is sending for the men in little white coats to carry you away.”

 

“And you will make sure you have my lipstick ready for when I land won't you? The press will be there so don't forget.” The old woman straightens herself up to her full 4' 9'', preparing to leave.

 

“Press? Mother you do realise don't you that nobody here knows I'm 'sick'?”

 

“Relax, darling it'll only be the local Bingley Gazette, the chair of the my branch of the Women's Institute is married to the editor. Your secret will be perfectly safe. Although Lord alone knows why you're keeping it to yourself. You need all the friends you've got around you at a time like this. They're bound to find out anyway when you start having treatments.”

 

“Still...”

 

“I haven't told the girls you're sick either.” 

 

Gina smiles, if there's any one of her mother's circle of friends younger than forty she'll eat her cap badge.

 

“They just think this is one more of dotty Birdie Gold's fundraising schemes for Cancer Research UK and are humouring me by tagging along for the ride. Between you and me, I think some of them are just as excited as I am though.” She winks.

 

“You're not dotty.”

 

The small birdlike woman presses a kiss to her daughter's cheek before polishing it off with a white gloved hand. “Mustn't leave a smudge now, must I?” she declares brightly. "Now, how about finding me a nice-looking constable to show me out, hey?”


End file.
